


Best Left Unsaid

by melodramaqueen



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Found Family Feels, Multi, lightwood siblings brot3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodramaqueen/pseuds/melodramaqueen
Summary: “Okay, I completely support your pansexuality, Simon, but if you dragged me out to this alley from the nice, cosy bar we were in to kiss and then talk about my brothers’ love lives, I have to remind you we’re the Lightwoods not the Lannisters. Although we are all ridiculously good-looking, so I can see why you’d go there in your mind but this is one of those things you really shouldn’t say out loud.”





	Best Left Unsaid

“Fuck, Izzy!”

“Not without foreplay, Simon.”

“I thought after Raphael I was immune to this stuff but…”

“Asexuality isn’t contagious, you know.”

“Not foreplay! Sneaking up on people and broody glares!”

“I think you just described Jace’s favourite seduction methods.”

“Wrong brother!”

“Alec’s always struck me as a candlelight dinner person.”

“He’s going to set me on fire!”

“Okay, I completely support your pansexuality, Simon, but if you dragged me out to this alley from the nice, cosy bar we were in to kiss and then talk about my brothers’ love lives, I have to remind you we’re the Lightwoods not the Lannisters. Although we are all ridiculously good-looking, so I can see why you’d go there in your mind but this is one of those things you really shouldn’t say out loud.”

“Alec was standing right behind you! He saw us!”

“So?”

“So? _So?_   I’m dead! People Who Date Izzy Lightwood vs Alec Lightwood is a closed case! And closed casket for me probably. I don’t think my face will survive this. I have delicate bones.”

“You’re an undead vampire.”

“Excuse me. Your brother punched Raphael so hard he was still thinking about the Holy Mother when I saw him hours later.”

“To be fair, Raphael is quite devout. He spends a fair bit of time thinking about the Holy Mother anyway.”

“He arrested Meliorn!”

“This kind of personalised misinterpretation is why we call you and Clary the TMZ of Shadow World politics.”

“And – and your other exes!”

“I’ve never heard of Alec doing anything to my other exes.”

“Exactly! I’ve heard so much about Izzy Lightwood and her string of broken hearts but where are your exes? Why has nobody ever heard of them except in other people’s stories? Are they all dead? Did Alec kill them all?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re right. Jace would have killed them all. Alec probably has them in an underground dungeon somewhere.”

-

_Magnus Bane’s Fantastic Fire Message Service! (Standard Charges applicable only for messages within this dimension, please refer to the Automated Rate List for Inter-Dimensional Prices)_

To: Raphael Santiago  
Head, Brooklyn Clan  
Hotel DuMort  
New York

Please note that as per the protocol established by the Accords, it is the responsibility of Clan Heads to ensure that fledglings turned by members (or ex-members) of their Clans are familiar with Shadow World customs, norms and codes of conduct. Clan Heads may be held responsible for transgressions committed by new members.  
  
Office of the Head of the New York Institute

-

“Simon.”

Simon tried to casually lean against the wall and knocked over one of the exquisite paintings that lined the halls of the Hotel DuMort. He contemplated running away to Antarctica for a second but Raphael would probably catch up with him before he could hit Brazil and then proceed to glare at him across two continents and an ocean on their way home.

“For the last and final time Simon, we do not have the ability to turn into bats and fly away,” said Raphael, with the exaggerated patience of a man who has none left.

“But wouldn’t it be great if we did, Raphael, my man, my amigo?”

“If you ever punch my arm again I will rip yours off.”

“Ah.”

“With my teeth.”

“Holy shit, you’re sexier than Derek Hale.”

“What?” asked Raphael, warily. He had learned to be wary when Simon started with his references. The clan leader was half-convinced they were part of a plot by Lily Chen to make him abdicate out of sheer confusion.

“What?” he parroted obediently.

“Simon.”

“Why are you pinching the bridge of your nose? Again?”

“Stop blathering on,” said Raphael finally, “and tell me what you did. In English this time.”

“Well, I got up feeling a little peckish today and also adventurous so I thought I’d try drinking chicken blood but turns out those little suckers run really fast when you let them out of their cages and there was a lot of flapping involved than I'd planned for. So I let go and then it went into Lily’s room and she threatened to decapitate me but…”

“While we will be returning to the issue of how the chicken feet I found in my favourite carpet tonight are entirely your fault…”

“Wow, just the feet, huh? Lily has real talent,” said Simon, genuine respect in his voice.

Raphael was almost convinced about the existence of that plot now. Nevertheless, he valiantly forged ahead, as a leader probably should. “… I was referring to what you have done to upset our already delicate alliance with the New York Institute.”

“Um. Who, me?”

He was a leader. He was not going to roll his eyes. He was a leader, dammit. “Has that ever worked for you?”

“My mom said I have the face of an angel!”

“Simon, you’re an undead demon-blooded creature.”

“C’mon, after that whole thing with Valentine and the Mortal Instruments and Raziel kicking bigot ass, I thought we were all over that shit.”

“What. Transgression. Is. Alec. Lightwood. Talking. About?” Gritting his teeth was a terrible idea with his fangs already out, Rapahel reminded himself. The effect it had on Simon almost made it worth it though, making him step back until he hit the wall and sent another painting crashing down.

“Um…” For an apex predator of the night, Simon bore a remarkable resemblance to a hunted hare.

Raphael refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose again with near heroic restraint. “Really? Now you stop talking?”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“Please tell me you didn’t steal his underwear,” he muttered, almost inaudibly.

Simon’s vampire ears and gossipy heart picked his words up at once, of course. “No! What? Who did that?”

“One of the newly converted werewolves had a crush.”

“I have to call Clary!”

“I give up,” said Raphael, rolling his eyes, “Please tell TMZ not to quote me on that werewolf story. And I do not have the patience to tease out what you did to the Nephilim but don’t do it again. The least you can do is try not to make me regret my existence more than you already do.”

-

_Magnus Bane’s Fantastic Fire Message Service! (Standard Charges applicable only for messages within this dimension, please refer to the Automated Rate List for Inter-Dimensional Prices)_

To: Raphael Santiago  
Head, Brooklyn Clan  
Hotel DuMort  
New York

This is the third time this week we found Simon at the bottom of a dumpster behind Jade Wolf. He claims to be fulfilling the dual purposes of ‘looking for evidence and hiding from Alec’. Luke seems to think we should leave him be but there is really only so long that a werewolf can stand vampire stench while trying to eat moo shoo pork in peace.

Besides, Maia keeps taking bits from my bowl to try to lure him in like a cat. We’ve acquired four actual kittens from the dumpster so far in this process and goddammit, my reputation can’t survive kittens on my biceps! Bat’s already sent pictures to my cousins in Philly. Turning that boy has bought me nothing but trouble

Fuck this shit,  
Taito

-

_Magnus Bane’s Fantastic Fire Message Service! (Standard Charges applicable only for messages within this dimension, please refer to the Automated Rate List for Inter-Dimensional Prices)_

Reply to sender: Just give him Lightwood’s underwear – R

-

_Magnus Bane’s Fantastic Fire Message Service! (Standard Charges applicable only for messages within this dimension, please refer to the Automated Rate List for Inter-Dimensional Prices)_

Reply to sender: I don’t get it, the Shadowhunter isn’t even that pretty. Why is half the Downworld after that ass? – T

-

_Your access to Magnus Bane’s Fantastic Fire Message Service has been cut off! You have violated the terms of service set forth by the Magnificent and  Mesmerising Magnus Bane! If you wish to restore access, please contact the High Warlock of Brooklyn and face his wrath! Apologies for the inconvenience!_

-

“Simon?” whispered Clary, uncertainly. There was a time when waking up to a pale creature with fangs glinting in the moonlight by her bedside would have evoked a much stronger reaction from her but her time in the Shadow World had left its mark.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t had quite the same effect on her best friend. Simon shrieked and ran halfway across the room when she opened her eyes and spoke.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Oh good, it really is you,” said Simon urgently. “Here, Clary, take this.” He pressed a slightly crumpled piece of paper onto her hand.

She took it from him and tossed it on the nightstand beside her bed. She clasped his hands and said, “Simon, its 3 am, what are you doing in my room?”

Just then, Jace burst into the room, seraph blade shining in the dimly lit space. “Clary! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Jace,” she said, flicking on a lamp, “That was Simon screaming.” She felt his hands slip out of hers and turned, “Si? Why are you running… And he’s gone.”

“Well, I’m still here,” said Jace, sheathing one blade and taking out another.

“Jace.”

“Clary.”

He sat down on the bed next to her and she melted into his arms. “We should probably be trying to figure out what’s wrong with him, not kissing right now,” said Clary, although her stern tone wasn’t quite enough to counteract the speed with which her fingers were undoing Jace’s buttons.

“If you think about it, this is actually one of our more appropriate times and places.”

“Fair enough.”

Simon Lewis' Will was knocked off Clary's nightstand soon after and lay, entirely forgotten, under her bed.

-

The Last Will and Testament of Simon L. Lewis

To Isabelle Lightwood, gorgeous beyond belief and the cause of my Untimely Demise 2.0 (although sadly not in the way I’d hoped), I leave all my love and the entirety of my comic book collection. I’d leave you more stuff but I don’t really have too much more stuff. I’m 19 and live with my mom, okay.

To my mom, I leave the mess in my room. You can finally set the fungus I’ve been cultivating next to my bed on fire and breathe in the sweet smell of satisfaction. (Actually, don’t do that. The smoke may be toxic. The fungus definitely was.)

To my sister, I leave my apologies for lying about the green stuff in the box beside my bed. No, it wasn’t an exotic plant. Yes, it was fungus. Yes, I’m sorry for putting some in your salad to see what would happen. (Unless you still haven’t figured out it was me, in which case I have no clue why you got diarrhoea in the middle of your date with Josh Riddley the next evening and had to run home after farting in his face.) 

To Clary Fairchild, I leave a message: ‘TMZ Forever’. Also, most of the rest of everything I own because you’re an artist, a hoarder and someone who stuck around for enough of my teenager-hood that you won’t be particularly surprised by anything you find.

To Jace Wayland/Lightwood/Herondale, I leave another message: ‘I still think your hair is too shiny’.

To Maia Roberts, I leave most of the movies I’ve illegally downloaded on my laptop. There’s actually a pretty cool marine documentary I found a few days ago I thought you might like, ‘Sea-Deep’. (Not to be confused with See Deep which I accidentally downloaded earlier and which helped me realise that yep, I’m definitely pansexual.)

To Raphael Santiago, I leave all my remaining blood bags. ‘Cause you’re a cool guy, Raph. Even though you threatened to eviscerate me if I called you that again.

To Magnus Bane, I… Magnus!

_(Clary, this Will as it currently stands, is still my final draft even though I got a bit distracted midway. You’re the executioner! I mean, executor. Alec is the executioner.)_

-

“This better be important, Sherwin. I have more important people to be doing right now,” Magnus answered the door, clad in a truly stunning dressing gown that managed to be wildly inappropriate for every imaginable occasion and just right for him to wear always.

“Don’t you mean things?”

“Sheldon, don’t make me kink-shame you.”

“It’s about Alec!”

“If Alexander is involved, I approve of all kinks.”

“There are no kinks!”

“Yes, it is a bit early in our relationship for that,” said Magnus, pouring out a glass of something sparkling and handing it to him. Simon took a sip, grateful to have something to hang onto while he tried to navigate the minefield of the conversation he had gone there to have.

“I didn’t come here to talk about your relationship,” he announced, hoping it came out sounding mature and dignified.

Magnus raised an eyebrow and his dignity settled somewhere down in his knees. “Then why are you talking about it?”

It was impossible for his head to be this fuzzy after two sips, right? Simon looked down at his glass again and could have sworn he saw tiny Tinkerbells waving at him from within its depths. “… That’s actually a really good question. You know, a lot of people have told me I’m easily distracted. I think that may be it?”

Magnus finally settled on a glass for himself from his drinks tray and settled down on a high-backed chair. “My relationship is a distraction for you?”

“Oh man, no… I mean, not that it isn’t a great relationship! You’re the Shadow World’s Brangelina! No wait, they broke up but you feel me.”

“Thankfully, I’ve never had that experience.”

“Alec would kill me.”

“So,” Magnus raised another eyebrow and Simon’s remaining self-confidence leaked out through his toes, “delighted though I am to see you at 4 am, how would you like it if I showed up at the DuMort to wake your nocturnal self up at 4 in the afternoon and then proceeded to ramble endlessly about your relationship? Remind me again, Sherwin, who are you seeing these days? Is it still Biscuit?”

“No! We broke up!”

“Ah. Yes, I recollect something of that sort happening involving a bleeder den. Raphael was not impressed. You are with Maia now, is that right?”

“Um, that’s over too actually,” Simon squeaked. He got the distinct impression Magnus was laughing at him.

But his tone remained perfectly polite, if slightly curious. “My, my, Sherlock. Your strange features appear to have made a hit with the ladies. Happen with the last fellow who played you in a TV adaptation as well, didn’t it?”

“You mean Bessyboo Candlesnatch?”

“No, I believe it was Babadook Clusterthatch.”

“No, Babadook is the other gay one.”

“Well, I can’t keep track of all the gay ones. And I’ve rather given up trying with all except one lately.”

“That’s the one I needed to talk to you about!” said Simon, desperately. “Magnus, you’re a lawyer right? I’d like to book a consultation.”

-

_Invoice – From the Office of Magnus Bane, Attorney-at-Law, Warlock Association of North America and Hell Dimensions_

_Consultation Fee… 4 pieces of Idris fulgrite (Alicante cuts only), 17 rubies, 22 diamonds, 1 signed poster from Raphael’s boyband days, 14 locks of goblin hair and 5 bumblebees._

_Transcript of Consultation:_

_MB (The Great and Powerful Magnus Bane): Now, what exactly are you worried about Simon?_

_SL (Client): Well, there’s climate change, the rise of the extremist politics, nuclear proliferation and your boyfriend killing me._

_MB: Well, on the matter of climate change, I do believe those gorgeous nymphs Macron and Trudeau are doing a fair bit. Fae blood comes in handy in world politics, I imagine._

_SL: That’s more of a long-term threat though. I’m more worried about the threat Alec currently poses to my continued existence with a long-range weapon._

_MB: And, as your lawyer, I have prepared a list of options for you._

_SL: Great! Let’s hear them._

_MB: Well, the first would be letting Isabelle organise your funeral. Now the decorations in that scenario would undoubtedly be divine but the catering might leave much to be desired. If you wish to go with the second option and let Clary take charge though, the food might be excellent or it might be non-existent. Biscuit has a bit of a tendency towards impulsiveness so we really won’t know how it’s shaping up until the last minute._

_SL: Hang on! What about options that don’t involve any funerals?_

_MB: You’ll be ash at that point anyway so that’s manageable although I think it might get a bit messy. Still, as long as Taito gets to read the poem he’s written for your eulogy, I think we’ll brush off quite well._

_SL: Taito wrote me a poem?_

_MB: Yes, the kittens are having quite an effect on him. Luke is considering declaring Chairwoman Meow alpha._

_SL: Chairwoman Meow?_

_MB: Its 2017, Lewis. A leader is a leader. Anyway, here’s a copy of the poem._

_SL: I meant options that involve me living!_

_MB: You’re not actually alive right now and the magic required for reversals of that variety would require an entirely different kind of consultation I’m not sure you can even begin to afford._

_SL: … I should just go hide in the dumpster again, right?_

_Attached Note:_  
Simon Lewis was a bloodsucker  
And quite an annoying fucker  
We couldn’t get his stench out of the couches for weeks  
We strongly suspected unsanitary leaks  
He was bloody lazy  
As well as completely batshit crazy  
He will be missed by the dumpster dude  
To whom he was often quite rude  
So long, vamp  
We’re replacing you with a sexy lamp  
\- Taito

-

“Simon, this is ridiculous. I’ve barely seen you this week.” He’d be been lurking near Clary’s rooms in the Institute, hoping to find some sage advice (or more likely, an insane plan) from his best friend that would save him, when Isabelle finally cornered him.

She continued, “Admittedly, it’s because I’ve got such a strange schedule for patrols suddenly that I’ve barely been at the Institute long enough to see my own family but you know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right? That’s part of being in a relationship.”

“I’m terrified of your brother,” he blurted out.

Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

“He saw us kiss,” whispered Simon.

Isabelle still seemed to be at a loss. “So?”

“He’s going to kill me!”

“This isn’t the 19th century, Simon,” said Isabelle, impatiently tapping the whip always coiled around her arm. “You don’t need to go ask anybody except me if you want to date me.”

“Really?” Simon drew back, surprised. “I thought the Shadowhunters were a super-traditional people.”

“In case the tech we have crammed into this abandoned church didn’t clue you in, we have progressed a bit.” Her tone was acerbic but it softened slightly as she said, “True, it’s been slightly lopsided progress but we’re not that bad. But if you really want to talk to him, let’s go to his office.”

“Wait, I’m calling Magnus!” said Simon, fishing out a cell phone.

“You really think he’d support you against Alec?” she asked dubiously.

“No, but I’m hoping Alec will care enough about his boyfriend’s clothes to avoid getting my blood on them.”

“Please.” Isabelle snorted and he could feel himself getting a little bit more infatuated with her epic-ness right then and there. “He’d love the extra excuse to take them off him. But go ahead, if it makes you feel better.”

She hadn’t stopped walking while she spoke and they stood in front of the Institute Head’s official rooms now. Ignoring Simon’s outraged squawk, she pushed the door open and then stopped short. “Jace? What are you doing in Alec’s office?”

Jace guiltily sat up in the chair he’d been on, behind Alec’s desk, looking through some papers. “Um.”

“One advocate, as requested,” announced Magnus, portalling in in a spiral of blue and purple sparks. He snapped the portal shut behind him and picked some non-existent dust off his jacket. “Although I’m not as invested in this trial as I was in the last one I participated in at this Institute. The payment is not quite as promising.”

“Jace?” said Isabelle, her voice very even. “What are you doing at Alec’s desk?”

Simon was pretty sure his heart was hanging out of his chest like an overwrought cartoon character at that Tone. Meanwhile Jace tried (unwisely) to wriggle out of it.

“Same thing you as, Iz,” he said, a little too glibly. “Waiting for him.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “What did you do?”

“Who, me?” Jace’s eyes, by contrast, were wide open (and, Simon noticed, framed by ridiculously, long pretty lashes).

“Jace you’re an angel-blooded devil. Nobody’s buying it. Also, you’re sitting on the wrong end of that desk for someone who’s simply waiting.”

The sibling stand-off would have probably gone on, with one increasingly agitated spectator and another who was looking at the scene with the indulgence of someone who had no real stake in the issue either way, had Alec not picked that moment to enter his room.

He seemed tired and a little surprised at the number of people clustered in his office. “What is going on here?” he asked, looking around.

“Alec?”

“Alec!”

“Alexander.”

Isabelle voiced the question on everyone’s minds. “Alec, why do you have a suitcase in your hand?”

“I just got back from Alicante, Izzy, where I spent the week.” He put it down and added sarcastically, “Nice to hear you missed me. What’s going on here?”

“Wait, if you haven’t been here all week, then who’s been running the Institute?” Adrian had told Gemma who had told Lily who had told Simon that Raphael had received a fire message from the Institute Head about his ‘transgressions’. The seal for it was in the office itself so Alec couldn’t have sent that message from Idris.

“Who invited the vampire again?” Alec sounded more than a little put out and Isabelle punched his arm.

“If an Institute Head is called away to Idris,” she told Simon, “their partner becomes the temporary head. That’s why the Clave prefers married couples…”

“Being High Warlock of Brooklyn is enough work for me, thank you,” interrupted Magnus, “Besides, there is the minor issue of thousands of years of bigotry and homophobia, etc, etc.”

“Failing that, the responsibility passes on to the oldest family member…” said Isabelle.

“But your parents are in Idris too!”

“Unless, the Head has a parabatai,” she finished wrathfully. Jace stopped in his tracks barely two feet away from the door that he had been using all his angelic Shadowhunter powers to sneakily edge towards. “In which case the idiotic, impulsive, reckless bloody parabatai who thinks he’s funny takes over!”

Under the full force of his sister’s glare, Jace raised a hand and said with a feeble chuckle, “Um, here?”

“Jace, how could you? You’re the one who’s been sending messages all week using this office! And scheduling those strange patrols for me!” Isabelle looked like she was five seconds away from yanking at his hair like Rebecca had with Simon when they were kids.

Behind him, Simon heard Alec ask Magnus in an entirely unsurprised undertone, “Did he set New York on fire?”

“No, you got back in time,” said Magnus, giving his boyfriend a quick kiss.

“It was funny! Maia saw you guys sneak out the back and Alec go right after and the mund- Simon quakes when he sees Alec anyway!” Jace’s blonde hair was standing up as if in anticipation of the torture it would soon undergo. “And why isn’t anybody going after Magnus? There’s no way he didn’t notice Alec’s absence!”

Alec gave Magnus a look that he had undoubtedly picked up from Isabelle. As such, it worked brilliantly. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” said Magnus. “I didn’t cause this chaos, I merely enabled it.”

“Magnus.” Simon was pretty sure Alec was trying for exasperated but his words just came out sounding fond.

“Isabelle. You have to admit, watching Sherwin scramble around worrying about what Alec would do to him to defend your honour was rather amusing.”

“I’m up for defending Izzy’s honour,” said Alec. “But what does that have to do with her dating life?”

“This is why half the Downworld wants that ass,” said Magnus, his hand wandering down slightly.

Simon looked at Magnus’ wink and Alec’s soft smile. Isabelle’s only slightly diminished fury had drawn pained yelps from Jace that had brought Clary running in and she was now acting as a negotiator between them. These people were crazy and since he apparently wasn't dying today, it seemed like he would be stuck with them for a while. He smiled. There were a lot of worse fates.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in two hours while sugar-rushing my ass off from mithai. Happy Diwali, you guys!


End file.
